


I Ain't Been Nothin But Bad

by Gedry



Category: Prep & Landing (Short Film 2009), Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M, What Was I Thinking?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 17:13:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12686559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gedry/pseuds/Gedry
Summary: It's a mashup of Supernatural RPF and Prep and Landing....Richard makes the Naughty and Nice lists way more complicated than it needs to be this year.





	I Ain't Been Nothin But Bad

I Ain’t Been Nothin But Bad.

_December 31_

“Magee?” Richard questions as he files the last of what seems like a trillion reports from the list this year. “I’m finished the last of the reports for the nice list this year. Are we clear to go for the first?”

“Tiny and I are still checking the redundancy concerns for the naughty list being that Peterson is retiring. But yes, it seems everything is in order for tomorrow. You should go enjoy the party, Richard.” 

“Yeah,” Richard sighs. “The party. Sure. Alright then, I trust I’ll meet my new counterpart tomorrow then?” 

“Yes,” Magee answers in that tone she uses when she’s distracted, which is pretty much always. “Collins is ready to take over as director of naughty list intelligence starting first thing.” 

“Collins?” Richard questions. “Never met him.” 

“He’s a coal elf,” Magee answers. “I’m sure you haven’t, since you don’t like to, how do you call it? Oh yes, slum it downtown.” 

“Go suck a chestnut, Magee,” Richard warns. His dislike of coal elves in general is fairly widely known, but he doesn’t want to have to defend himself to his boss, no matter what their previous relationship might be.

“Take the candy cane out of your ass, Richard. Go to the party, get drunk on eggnog, find a cute boy and get laid. Try to have a life.”

She hangs up then, conversation over. Richard says no one in general as he holds the phone, “This is Frosty signing off.” 

Richard’s always hated that call sign. 

He hits the streets, hard to avoid the celebration that’s been going on since Santa returned from another successful year. It’s how it’s been for as long and Richard can remember. He’s four hundred and sixty two years old now, done his job as the Director of Nice List Intelligence since he was promoted from the Prep and Landing squad a little over a hundred years ago. Sometimes he misses the simplicity of being one of Santa’s secret service. Prep the house, bring in the big guy, party hard until the middle of February and start training again. 

He misses his partner, but Beaver has long since retired and moved to a more tropical landscape. As it is now, Richard spends the year in political negotiations with his counterpart as to which kids end up on the nice list and which ones belong on the naughty. It’s a lot of responsibility, Richard spends the year making tough choices about which children’s dreams of Christmas will and will not come true. 

He’s pretty jaded about it, honestly, being put on the naughty list means no Santa, and a visit from the coal elves; a lump in the stocking and a note to try harder. Richard’s still not sold on the tough love motivation, but after a millennium of this protocol Santa gets what Santa wants. 

So instead of six weeks of drunken revelry, Richard gets tonight. He’s tempted to just go back to his empty apartment, but the roads are all blocked due to the festivities and it’s a long walk home in the cold since he can’t use his snow mobile. So as disgruntled as he is, he heads to the nearest bar for a drink. At least that way he might be freezing halfway home, but he won’t feel a thing. 

He’s four nogs in when he finds himself on the dance floor, fairly uncertain as to why he’s out there, but enjoying the rocking sea of bodies just the same. The music is blaring, his blood is pumping, and Richard forgets for a minute that he’s almost too old to be here; being on the upper end of the age range in which elves pair off makes dating difficult for him, especially since he’s gay. 

He’s trying not to wallow. Besides, it’s hard to be morose when you’re being pressed back up against the bar by a blue eyed, dark haired, angel of an elf. 

“What’s your name?” Richard asks before dropping his head down to lick a stripe up the other elf’s perfectly pointed ear. 

The guy laughs, a deep chuckle that goes right to Richard’s dick. “Look, you’re not really interested in what my name is. And I’m too drunk to care that you don’t want to know. How about we just head to my place and see where this goes?” 

It’s the best offer Richard’s had in almost a decade; he doesn’t need to be asked twice. The path to Blue eye’s place is a blur; he remembers vaguely some drunken stumbling on both their parts. Thinks he may have dropped to his knees at one point while Blue eyes was struggling to unlock his door and tried to blow him through his pants. They may have fallen inside then and spent an hour making out on the floor with the door wide open. 

It’s possible Richard may have broken down and begged Blue eyes to fuck him halfway through the rim job he was getting. It’s hard to remember clearly. 

What he is clear on is how it felt when they finally made it to the bed and Blue eyes buried himself to the hilt inside of Richard’s out of use body. It’s been so long since Richard’s been fucked and this guy melts his marshmallows in all the right ways. He’s on the verge of coming _before_ Blue eyes starts pinching the tip of his ear with one hand while he grips Richard’s hip hard enough to leave marks with the other. 

After that, well he’d had a lot of eggnog, and gotten his brain fucked out his ears. He kind of melts into the bed that feels a little dusty and smells faintly of coal. Richard has just enough brain cells left to wonder why that is as he passes out with Blue eyes coming inside him and stretching out over top of him while groaning in pleasure. 

_January 1_

Richard slams his way into the office, hair sticking up everywhere and still reeking of sex. He should have just gone home, never should have drunk that much, certainly never have gone home for the night with some strange elf only to wake up alone in the guys apartment this morning. 

A coal elf at that, Richard’s horrified. 

Never mind that he was already late for work on the first day of the year, the day he’s supposed to meet his new counterpart. His snow mobile still at the office meaning he had no time to shower and no way to go home to change. 

His left ear has a hicky on it. This is the worst day _ever_ in the history of elfdome. 

Or at least that’s what he thinks before busting into the conference room with Magee and the big guy himself and sees Blue eyes sitting at the other end of the table. 

Oh, roasted chestnuts. 

“Richard,” Santa says with a smile. “Looks like you had a long night, Son. Glad you’re here. This is Misha Collins, the new Director of Naughty List Intelligence.”

Richard’s heart stops, he almost cries, every bit of professionalism already shoved out into the cold. And Blue eyes, Collins, just looks up at him and smiles. 

This is going to be the worst year of his life. 

*****

“So,” Collins says as Richard watches Magee and Santa leave. There’s a pit in his stomach the size of a Santa’s sleigh at the idea of being alone with his one night stand turned co-worker. “Are we going to stare at the door all day? I got a big pay raise taking this job and I assumed we would be busier than that.” 

Richard blinks, one long, soul sucking blink where he holds his breath and prays to Rudolph that when he opens his eyes again he will no longer be in the this room. 

It doesn’t work; Collins is still right where he was sitting a moment ago. 

 

“I’m going to assume by the look on your face you’d prefer if I acted as though you hadn’t just caroled your bells on my sheets last night.” Collins says flatly, almost as if he wants a different answer. But no way in all of the Pole is Richard stupid enough to involve himself with a co-worker, certainly not a coal elf. 

“Have your job duties been explained to you in detail?” Richard asks. He’s purposely avoiding addressing the issue; hoping Collins will catch the hint. 

The coal elf’s eyes seem to pinch up for a moment before sharpening and leveling Richard with a gaze that is strictly professionalism at it’s best. “I was told you would explain the nature of our partnership to me after we met, other than that particular concern, I’m well versed in what’s expected of me.” 

“Oh,” Richard swallows, takes a deep breath and gets turn around for a second by the smell of the other elf on his own skin. He flashes back for just an instant to the way Misha tastes, the noise he makes when you nibble on the tip of his elegantly pointed ear. There’s an ache in Richard’s chest he can’t quite shake. Then Misha clears his throat and it’s like the snow starts falling again outside. “Our relationship….”

“Never mind,” Misha snaps as he grabs digital device, affectionately called a fruitcake, off the table top and heads toward the door. “You’ve made the nature of our relationship very clear.” 

Richard slumps into a conference chair and smashes his forehead twice against the giant table in the room as soon as he’s sure he’s alone. 

“Frost bite!” 

Richard slinks to the shower, avoiding all the other elves that he can along the way. There’s something horribly awkward about being congratulated on what a good job you’re doing in your position when you feel like the worst elf in the entire North Pole. Richard feels like he’s wearing a sign that projects, “I had unprotected, anonymous, drunken sex with my new partner last night. Aren’t I just the naughtiest elf around?” But thinking of being naughty makes him think of Misha….

It’s the guilt more than anything that has him beg Magee for help. She sends Tiny to his house to bring back an extra set of clothing while Richard escapes into the gym shower room to clean himself up. He pointedly ignores the bruises along his hips, the rug burn on his knees and elbows, and the ache in his back. It’s like he ran a marathon last night in Misha’s bed. There’s a big part of Richard that wants to dwell on it, wants to leans against the shower wall and stroke himself to another orgasm thinking about the way the coal elf had touched him last night. But he’s already crossed too many of his personal lines in the last twenty four hours. Instead he dries himself off, tugs on his clothing, and heads back to his office to bury himself in his paperwork. 

“It’s better this way,” Richard mumbles to himself as he struggles to focus with Misha moving into the office just across the hallway and getting settled in. The cold shoulder he’s getting wouldn’t hurt so bad if he didn’t have vivid memories of how giving and open Misha was with him last night. 

He eats his lunch alone in his office when he should be making the new guy feel comfortable. Richard never approaches Misha again that day, he keeps his head down and tries not to notice how the other elf slams his door shut as he leaves for the day and refuses to even glance in Richard’s direction. 

He’s figgy puddinged this whole thing without even trying and now Richard has no idea how to make it right. That being the case, he decides just to see it through, eventually he figures Misha will forget and he’ll quit pining for what he doesn’t have time to take care of.

After all, Richard works endless hours; he’s selfish, odd, and overly dedicated to his career. Who would want that? Who would want him? 

_February 14th_

“Happy love day,” Misha announces as he strolls into the conference room adorned with brightly colored tinsel. “Oh, that’s right, love means nothing to you.” 

Even Santa laughs, the huge jerk. Richard bites the inside of his cheek as he fakes a smile. Everyone thinks Misha is kidding, the jabs and rude comments not being too far off from typical male elf behavior. They’re known to be competitive. But Richard knows the truth all too well. Misha is still angry with him. 

Richard’s plan to let the whole thing blow over isn’t going as he expected. After a week of the coal elf keeping his distance Misha had become a sudden and unexpected lunch time partner for Richard. He had to admit, even now, he’d enjoyed it. Misha has a uniquely passionate view of the world and their place in it. He accepts their anonymity with a grace few elves are able to muster, and though he is in charge of the naughty children list, he clearly sees the best in everyone and works to convince other people of the same. 

Everyone except Richard. 

He should have kept his mouth shut. Richard’s never known when to let a good thing go. So after two weeks of companionable lunch dates he had to go and bring up the fact of Misha mentioning he had a date the following evening. It’s a long story, but suffice it to say Richard ended up wearing more of his lunch than he managed to ingest. 

He’s learned since then to never, ever mention Misha’s penchant for passionate flings. They don’t last anyway; Misha once mentioned he rarely finds anyone challenging enough to hold his interest for more than week or two. Part of Richard cringes to be counted amongst those discarded, another part of him wants to see if he could hold onto Misha if really given a fair chance. 

Not that he’s pining, they’ve both moved on. Misha to an elf named Sebastian and Richard to his own hand under the covers at night. Perfect solution to an imperfect problem, aside from the fact that Richard’s feeling more and more lonely as time goes on. It’s not something he’s ever really thought about before the last few months. 

His career has always been enough, hasn’t it?

“I’ve called you here to discuss the strategy for the upcoming holiday season.” Santa announces as Misha slips into the chair next to Richard’s. It takes Richard a moment to stop staring at the teeth marks on Misha’s pointed ear. There’s a flash of rage through his body and he clenches his teeth so hard his jaw hurts. 

Someone’s been chewing on his…his…well, okay. Misha doesn’t belong to Richard at all does he? If there had been a chance for that to happen Richard has certainly ruined it all by now. 

So yes, he’s an idiot, best not to dwell on it too much. 

“We’ve changed the game plan a bit,” Magee adds as she starts projecting the team assignments up onto the screen in the front of the room. “As you can see we’ve left all assigned partners together for the upcoming season. Everyone did well last year and we like to play on our strengths. However, we a Prep and Landing team and a Coal Squad team down to one person a piece. Both of their partners retired after last season leaving Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki without a teammate.”

“So we need to begin the recruitment process from the academy,” Richard says without thinking. It’s the way things have always been done. 

“Not so fast, Son,” Santa says. “This is the first time in a very long time we’ve had a member from both squads need a partner at the same time. I think it would be in our best interest to revisit cross-training.” 

Richard gets a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. “But we assessed that option and decided it wouldn’t work, too disruptive to the way we have the system set up.”

“Yes, I know.” Magee answers. “On a global scale this would be chaos and we all know that. But we have two well qualified elves who know their respective jobs and both need a partner. We’ve decided to partner them up and see how they do with each other. They can be like our _special_ Special Ops team. We’ll hold them in reserves for multiple child households where there may be a number of dangerous factors to consider. Their partnership will last for the whole of this season and if it goes well then we can consider renewal. If it doesn’t then they can be reassigned partners from their regular squad for next year.” 

“Have they already been informed?” Misha asks with a grin that tells Richard he’s in full support of this totally not tinsel idea. 

“They are meeting currently,” Magee nods as she gulps her coffee. “The wheels are in motion gentlemen. I suggest you get on board before the Polar Express runs you down. And by gentlemen, I mean _you_ Richard.”

Santa chuckles as he gets to his feet, belly quivering slightly like the bowl full of jelly it is before he leaves the room. Magee glares at him pointedly before turning to check with Tiny about her next appointment and clearly he and Misha are being dismissed. 

Richard sighs, considers that maybe it’s time for him to move on from this, but he’s an elf and Christmas is just what they do, all they do. So he follows Misha out the conference room door and down the hall to the elevators without so much as Ho, Ho. Ho. 

He’s not expecting Misha to hit the emergency stop button on the elevator once they’re inside. 

“I just need to know,” Misha announces after the elevator slides to a halt. “What’s your issue with coal elves?”

“I’m not having this conversation,” Richard blurts, pressing himself back against the back wall trying to give himself more space. 

“I hate to break it to you,” Misha smirks. “But yes you are. I got clearance from the big guy to keep you in here until you spill your guts.” 

“You dirty, nasty, underhanded, poor excuse for reindeer pellets of an elf…” Richard snarls as he launches himself across the small space between them and grabs for Misha’s jacket with both hands. They end up tussling, his papers and Misha’s fruitcake hitting ground all around them as they bounce off the walls. 

“Keep insulting me and I’m going to deck your halls,” Misha snaps back, shoving Richard away with one hand and shaking him by his shirt with the other. “What is your problem anyway? One night you’re all over me and the next morning it’s like I have some kind of disease. You won’t even look at me half the time. Everyone around here keeps telling me to let it go, they say you hate coal elves. But you sure as Frosty’s pipe weren’t complaining when you were sucking my dick on your knees in the snow. So I try to just make friends, I try to forget about it. But no, you want to act like I’m some kind of town slut. I’m done with this, Richard. You and I are going to work through whatever your problem is with me and we’re going to do it now or we will sit in this elevator all stinking day.” 

Richard’s not sure what exactly pushes him over the edge he’s been hanging off of for so long. Maybe it’s the fact they’ve been talking about him, that Misha sought people out to try and find out why Richard was treating him so poorly. Maybe it’s the way his head is almost snapping back and forth from Misha shaking him so hard. More likely though, it’s the sight of the teeth marks covering Misha’s ear that drive him completely out of his mind and have him slamming back into Misha’s body, forcing him backwards until he’s pinned in against the wall and yanking his shirt free of the coal elf’s grasp before grabbing Misha by the hair and crushing their mouths together in a kiss so rough it’s almost crossing a line Richard likes to stay away from. 

Misha just drives him crazy. 

He tilts Misha’s head to the side and bites down on the ear that’s already wearing someone else’s mark with his teeth. It’s not a cultural thing, Richard’s just lit up inside about it. Misha’s his, deep down inside where Richard lets himself have what he wants. No one else needs to be touching him. The coal elf’s hips slam up against his as Misha chokes out a, “Chris Kringle!” Richard drops his head further and sucks down the long column of Misha’s neck until his shirt gets in the way, then back up to his mouth where Misha melts into him, curling his quivering arms around Richard’s neck and holding him close while the relearn the flavor of each other. 

It’s Misha who starts tugging at their leggings. His hips rocking against Richard’s as they rub up against one another and dig up under each other’s shirts. “Want you,” Misha rumbles as he yanks his own leggings down until the tangle up with his boots. He twirls, facing the wall of the elevator and tilts his hips back toward Richard in a blatant invitation. Richard hesitates, “Misha…” so much to say, so many meanings. He doesn’t do things like this and this is their second time together without so much as a date between them. They’re at work, still co-workers, not even friends. 

“Please,” Misha pleads. “Wanted it the first time, but we were both too drunk.”

Richard watches, almost detached from the movement as his hand reaches out to cup around the curve of Misha’s exposed ass. His pale skin fitting so perfectly into Richard’s hand it’s almost unreal. They both groan at the contact, Richard’s fingers dipping into the crease to brush over Misha’s hole and find him loose, already lubed. 

“Did you fuck him?” Richard questions as he pushes two of his fingers inside Misha more quickly than he normally would. 

“NNnnooo…” Misha gasps as his eyes roll up and he bites at his lips from the sensation. “Oh….” His hips rock back as Richard’s fingers push further inside. Misha jackknifes as Richard finds his prostate and tortures it with aggressive strokes firmly against it as Misha keens and twists on his fingers. 

“Tell me.”

“Went home at lunch,” Misha pours the words out with hitches in his breath. “Masturbated, Oh!” He whines as Richard pulls his fingers out and tugs down his leggings, working his way inch by inch into Misha’s body. “Thought about this,” Misha gasps out. “Wanted this. I haven’t been with anyone since you. I promise. Just making out.” 

It’s enough of an answer for Richard right now, Misha squeezing him so tightly that he can barely focus on anything but filling the coal elf up with his come. He’s slamming in hard, gripping Misha’s hips and chanting, “Don’t you dare come,” into Misha’s ear. 

“Oh holy holly leaves,” Misha almost shouts. “Why?!” 

“Because after this I want to suck you off,” Richard answers. “Can’t leave a mess all over the elevator wall now can we?” 

Misha makes a noise like a snow bunny squeezed to hard and rolls back into Richard at just the right angle to make him see snowflakes and groan out his release. They’re both panting, so close their breathing each other’s air before Richard slips himself free and turns Misha around on shaky legs. Richard drops to his knees, moves Misha’s thighs further apart and slides his arm between them at the same time he sucks the head of Misha’s purple, clearly aching dick into his mouth. His fingers slip back inside Misha’s body with ease, he’s so full of Richard’s come and it only takes a few moments before Richard’s drinking him down, sliding his fingers out, and helping Misha to redress. 

He hits to button to make the elevator go again just before dipping his head down and kissing Misha’s still somewhat senseless lips. The coal elf a warm, temporarily contented weight at his side as Misha hums his pleasure. 

“My ex-husband was a coal elf,” Richard says as he tugs his clothing back into some semblance of order. Misha’s eyes turn to him, still glassy, but aware enough to pay attention. “He worked the Coal Brigade and had a partner who was like family to us. We were together all the time. They were having an affair, I never knew. It went on for years behind my back and the other coal elves on the brigade did a lot to keep me from finding out. He left me for him. Eventually his partner got promoted to Director of the Naughty List and I worked my ears off to get where I am today. I wanted that reindeer turd to have to look at me across a table for the rest of his career and remember how he tore my life apart. We were friends, I cared about them both and they treated me like a broken toy. The worst part is the rest of our coal elf friends turned their back on me too. I lost everything.” 

The doors open, Richard steps out into the hallway and says, “So now you know.” And yeah, he’s a coward. He turns and almost runs away without ever looking back. 

_March 10th_

It’s not avoiding if you see each other everyday at work. Honestly, they’re even having lunch again on a consistent basis. So maybe that’s progress. Richard can’t get the taste of Misha out of his mouth no matter what, and the sounds the coal elf made while they tossed their Christmas cookies in the elevator are still haunting Richard’s dreams. 

Which is why he finds himself in the stable tonight instead of heading straight home. 

“You smell like coal,” Thrasher announces as Richard wanders into the reindeer’s quarters. “You haven’t smelled like that in a long time.” 

Richard flushes pink all over and the reindeer has the nerve to look at him from over the top of the sunglasses he wears all the time. “It’s my partner,” Richard mumbles. 

“Sure it is,” Thrasher snorts, front hoof pawing at the ground. 

“I slept with him,” Richard blurts as he sits down on a bunch of hay. He’s not going to examine publicly why his chosen therapist is the meanest reindeer in all of the North Pole. His life is weird enough as it is. Still, he can trust Thrasher, they’ve been through a lot together and Richard knows the reindeer would never betray his confidence. “Twice.”

“You’re an idiot,” Thrasher comments. “I’ve known that for a long time. You didn’t have to prove it.” 

Richard blinks. “You know what?” He huffs. “Go choke on a chestnut, I’m taking my box of candy canes and going home.” 

It’s a dirty lie and they both know it. Thrasher loves candy canes as much as Richard loves…well this isn’t really about Richard. The reindeer catches the back of Richard’s jacket with his teeth as the elf turns to leave and gently, but firmly, drags him further into his living area. 

“You got to be careful,” Thrasher warns. “Dancer got into my last box and you know how he gets when he has sugar. He took a dump in the sleigh; the big guy was so pissed he told me if I let it happen again I was going on a candy cane free diet.”

But Richard notes, with a grin, the warning doesn’t stop Thrasher from tucking the gifts Richard has brought him into a hidden enclosure in his rooms. Saving them for later, no doubt, and Richard appreciates the extra precautions. Thrasher would be worse than Magee without coffee if he lost access to his candy canes. 

“So you like this guy?” Thrasher asks as Richard sits back down. The reindeer shifts from hoof to hoof as he waits for Richard to come up with some kind of answer. 

“I…I want to like him,” Richard admits and even that comes out sounding like a personal failure. 

“It was almost two hundred years ago,” Thrasher reminds him. Richard winces, tossing some hay in front of him like a shield as he sighs. His old friend is right, of course. He’s being the bitter old man he swore he would never turn out to be. 

He doesn’t want that. 

“It still hurts.” Richard admits softly, rubbing at the center of his chest where the pain feels like it settled and turned colder than snow all those many years ago. 

“It might hurt forever if you let it,” Thrasher comments, flipping the candy cane in his mouth around before leveling Richard with his gaze, huge head dipping down so they come eye to eye. “Is that what you want?” 

“No,” Richard murmurs. “I want to be happy.” 

“Then it’s time to change the way you do things,” Thrasher says before nudging Richard with his snout in a gruff expression of affection. “Now get out of here and let me get some sleep. Flying trials are in the morning and I got to bust some of these young kids asses back in line before they start thinking they’re the fastest thing out there.” 

Richard snorts, Thrasher’s the badest, meanest, fastest reindeer of them all, Santa’s best kept secret. He’s a task master, and Richard’s glad he’s not one of the new reindeer recruits come tomorrow. 

He heads for home contemplating his next move. Once upon a time, when Richard was younger than Misha is now, he was a romantic. It’s a skill he thought he lost a long time ago. But maybe, just maybe, it’s time he rediscovered it and allowed himself to hope for more than cold winter evenings alone with his regret. 

_April 1_

Weapons check day, always one of Richard’s favorite, time to get a look at the new gadgets the technical team has been working on for the last fifty or sixty years. This time though, he gets a glimpse into the coal elf side of the security team. Previous years Richard’s had no need to be present for that because of the team divisions. But with how well Jared and Jensen are performing together it’s been decided that both Richard and Misha be present to witness the demonstrations. 

The combined team of coal and prep and landing elves has been working wonderfully in simulations. Jared and Jensen have been building on each other’s strengths while they learn to compensate for their individual deficits. Not that they have all that many deficits, really. Interviews with them individually have shown a mutual respect and admiration growing into personal friendship. They’ve been seen together outside of the training center frequently enjoying dinners out and their time off. In fact, Richard knows that Jensen personally requested his work schedule be altered so he could have it match his new partner’s. When Richard had asked him about it the normally reserved and unflappable leader of his team had blushed to the tip of his pointed ears and stammered out a number of obviously false reasons. 

Richard had approved his request, of course. Who is he to stand in the way of young love? Something about that giant oaf of a coal elf clearly melts Jensen’s marshmallows and so long as they keep things at work stable then Richard could care less what they do in their free time. 

He’s been relieved to notice Misha seems to share his belief system in that regard. 

Misha…Richard’s a little bit ashamed to admit that he’s made little progress in that department. He’s just not sure how to approach it, every time he tries they end up arguing, having angry sex, and stalking off in their own directions fuming and confused. 

He just wants a date; He’s not sure why Misha has to make it all so complicated. Richard’s not exactly willing to admit it might be his fault too. Still though, staring at the side of Misha’s face as they wait for the presentations to begin, Richard takes in the tiny lines around his counterpart’s eyes and mouth, the delicate curl around the tip of Misha’s slightly longer than normal ears, and smudge of coal almost hidden by the hair on the nape of his neck, and sighs. 

He’s wants Misha more than Hermey wanted to be a dentist. 

There’s a throat clearing across the room and Richard’s attention snaps back into the room. By the grin circling Misha’s mouth, Richard assumes it’s not the first time they’ve been trying to get his attention. 

“This is the upgraded sparkle launcher for this season,” Matt announces as he holds up what looks like a tommy gun full of little glass Christmas tree ornament balls. They look harmless, but all elves know the value of sparkle. They sneak into human homes uninvited and unannounced. Humans have a penchant for having pets and when you’re smaller than the average house cat it’s imperative that you have some kind of protection. 

Sparkle, disguised as a harmless decoration, offers the prep and landing and coal elves a chance to complete their jobs without being harmed or having to harm any other living thing they might find in a home. One blast from a sparkle and humans, animals, and elves alike pass immediately in peaceful dreams and wake thinking what they saw that night was all a crazy dream. 

It’s effective and proven to have no side effects fortunately, given what happens next. 

Matt gives an impressive demonstration of the guns performance, ending with the comment of, “We’re still working some of the kinks out.”

“Tinsel,” Misha whispers as Matt turns to put the gun down on the table to move onto the next new toy. But the gun discharges with a bang by itself. Everyone in the room jerks, Richard looks up just in time to see the sparkle barreling toward him. But then Misha’s solid weight slams into him, taking the full effect of the sparkle himself. It’s a double dose, enough to put down a full grown human. 

Richard grabs onto Misha’s suddenly limp form as he starts to collapse. He cradles his partner to his chest as the other elves in the room scramble to ensure no more accidents happen and then rush to get help. It’s not necessary; Misha’s breathing normally, like he’s had a few too many drinks and passed out on the floor. Richard’s only worried about how long he might be under for. The effects of sparkle are temporary but a dose of that magnitude could take a day to sleep off. 

“Take him home, Son,” Santa suggest softly as the others rush around in a panic. “Look after him like I know you want to.” 

“But,” Richard begins, not sure what exactly he’s trying to say to the big guy. 

“Richard,” Santa sighs. “Maybe I’m not the one to be talking to about forming new relationships; I’ve been married since before you were born. But I do know what that look on your face means; I’ve been wearing it myself every time I look at Mrs. Claus since the day we met. Love needs to be nurtured, Richard. You’ve gone far too long alone. It’s time for a change. No more being a Grinch for you.” 

It’s hard to argue with the big guy, especially when Richard suspects he’s right. He finds Misha to be lighter than he appears as he carries him to his snow mobile. It’s instinct more than anything else that drives Richard down the curving and snow covered streets to his home instead of taking his sleeping partner turned friend turned…hopefully lover to his own residence. 

Dragging Misha into the house is more work than the elf is particularly worth, it’s like he’s getting heavier the farther away from work they get. But still, the way Misha burrows into his arms and moves to inhale his scent makes all the effort more than worth it. He ends up debating for a moment about making Misha comfortable on the couch or indulging in a long term fantasy that he has. 

Richard’s weak, he can admit that, he takes Misha’s still sleeping form to his bedroom and slips him down onto the bed with a groan. Misha’s head rolls toward him then, noses bumping together as his blue eyes slip open just a bit to gaze at Richard’s face blearily. 

“I want to love you,” Misha whispers, words slurred as though he’s had way too much nog. Then his eyes slip shut again and his breathing evens out as he slips back into his sparkle induced dreams. 

“I want to love you, too,” Richard whispers back before pressing a kiss to Misha’s forehead and stroking his fingers over the tip of his ear. He tugs off the other elf’s shoes and loosens his over shirt before doing the same for himself and dragging a shawl at the foot of the bed up to cover them both. 

Richard slips into dreams indulging in his most secret fantasy…having Misha in his bed, in his arms, for the whole night. 

_May 9th_

He stomps on the fears that this is the dumbest idea he’s ever had in his very long life the whole ride Misha’s house. Richard’s leggings are too tight; his hat feels like it’s squishing his head. He needs to turn around and just go home. But then who’s going to help him eat all this food?

“Have you lost your mind?” Misha blurts after he opens his front door and sees Richard standing on his doorstep carrying two bags full of groceries. 

“Probably,” Richard admits with a blush up to his hairline. “I’ve been wondering the same thing myself.” 

Misha stares at him for a long time, so long in fact the bags he’s carrying start to feel heavy and Richard has to shift his feet to make sure the load he’s carrying doesn’t just hit the ground and splatter all over both their feet. “Can I come in?” He questions. “I come bearing dinner.”

“Food?” Misha brightens, cocks his head to one side and smiles. “You brought me dinner? Come on in then. I’m starved.” 

He turns, leaving the door wide open for Richard to follow him inside and kick it shut. Part of Richard’s brain wants to hesitate, wait for instructions as to where Misha wants him to go. His partner must sense his hesitation. “Go have your way with the place, Richard.” Misha comments with a grin. “After all, it’s not like you haven’t been here before.” 

Heat pools in Richard’s gut, just the memory of the two of them curled up together on the very spot that Richard is now standing makes him so hard he wants to drop the bags again just to tug at his pants. It’s not like they haven’t had sex since that first time, but their relationship is complicated to the point of giving Richard heart palpitations and stomach aches. Even after the night Misha spent in his arms recovering from the sparkle. 

Richard had woken up the next morning to find Misha missing, the sheets barely disturbed like he had dreamed the whole thing. They’ve never even managed to have a conversation about it. They always end up arguing about something else. Telling someone you think you’re falling in love with them should absolutely _not_ be this difficult. 

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Misha asks as he curls back up on the couch where he was clearly sitting before surrounded by a warm blanket, a box of tissues, and a trash can. 

“You’ve never missed work before,” Richard comments as he starts the process of unpacking the grocery bags he’s carrying. “I was concerned and wanted to check on you.”

“That’s sweet,” Misha says flatly. “I’m not sure sweet is a good look on you.” 

It’s a joke, Richard can tell by the way Misha’s lips are curving up on the sides. “Fuck you.” He says back mockingly.

“Not tonight, Dear,” Misha laughs. “I have the plague.” 

The laughter dissolves into a fit of coughing so severe it has Richard rounding the counter into the living room to rub the other elf’s back as he chokes and sputters his way through it. Misha finally collapses back against the couch with a groan and says pitifully, “My whole body hurts.” 

He doesn’t bother to tamp down on the swell of tenderness he feels as he scrubs a hand through Misha’s messed up hair and tucks his head against the side of his neck. Richard can hear the wheezing as Misha breathes and his worry must somehow show because Misha murmurs, “They gave me medication, said the wheezing would improve in a few days.” 

“I brought soup,” Richard says gently as he slips free of Misha’s warm weight against his side and tucks the elf under the blankets before returning to the kitchen to put dinner together. 

“Good,” Misha rasps. “I don’t think I could chew much.” 

Richard spends the time while he cooks them both dinner by filling Misha in on the work day. It’s not much to say really so instead of the facts Richard finds himself thinking out loud, giving Misha his ideas and concerns about where they’re headed with upcoming meetings and discussions. Misha doesn’t answer much, but when Richard stops working to look over at him his blue eyes are watching him thoughtfully. It hits him then, this feels like what he had before. Richard remembers nights just like this one, hundreds of years ago where he made dinner and his lover sat listening to him talk. He had always loved those evenings; much preferred them to being out and able. The intimacy of those moments long forgotten until just now and Richard feels a pang of regret that he had ever forgotten how much he loved this connection. 

By the time the food is ready Misha looks ready to drop off to sleep though he keeps coughing frequently and rubbing at his chest like it hurts him. Richard brings the trays over and helps to drag Misha into a sitting position so he can eat. The first few bites are taken in silence. Misha chews the stew thoughtfully as though he’s examining the ingredients even though he never asked Richard what exactly he was making. 

“Mistletoe?” Misha finally questions. 

“Yeah,” Richard shrugs. “It’s supposed to help with healing and it adds a good flavor. It’s an old family recipe.” 

“I’m allergic to mistletoe.” Misha says so seriously that Richard is immediately trying to rip the bowl form his hands before rushing to call for help of some kind. But then finally, after he realizes the noise Misha’s making is actually laughter and not the beginnings o f suffocation he stops and glares at the other elf. 

“You are an asshole!” Richard snaps as he flops back onto the couch swatting at Misha’s hands when he tries to touch him.

“You’re so gullible,” Misha croaks. “Would you have nursed me through asphyxia?”

“I’m temped to choke you and give it to you anyway,” Richard huffs but he can’t hide the grin spreading across his face. Misha is never boring. 

“This is wonderful,” Misha says a moment later as he holds up his almost empty bowl. “Thank you.” 

“If you think that was good, wait for dessert,” Richard grins as he scoots a little closer. They finish eating quietly, Richard relieved that Misha coughing seems to have settled down. Then he’s up, even though Misha protests that Richard doesn’t need to make anything else. 

A few minutes later he’s bringing glasses full of a fruit and yogurt parfait mixture. Misha gobbles it up like he hasn’t eaten in weeks before slumping back onto the couch with a happy sigh and letting his eyes start to slide closed. 

“I should go,” Richard says as he gathers the dishes and puts them into the dishwasher. “You need rest.” 

“Just a few more minutes,” Misha asks and Richard doesn’t really want to go anyway so sliding back onto the couch beside him and slipping under the blanket when Misha lifts it up for him isn’t really a chore. He closes his eyes as Misha settles against him, thin body leaning into Richards as the minutes tick on and Richard’s limbs start to feel heavier. He’s comfortable, warm and full, with someone he cares about at his side. Misha’s breathing is more strained than he would like it to be, but he’s not coughing right now so Richard counts that as a small victory and comfort. 

“Would you stay?” Misha says softly just when Richard was certain he had fallen asleep. “If I asked you to?” 

“As long as you would have me,” Richard answers perhaps more honestly than he meant to. 

“Tinsel,” Misha says and Richard can feel his smile against the skin of his neck. But Misha doesn’t ask him to stay, doesn’t tell him to go either. Richard drifts off to sleep sitting up on Misha’s couch with his body pressed close against him; So many questions rolling through his mind, not an answer in sight.

He’s starting to think that must be how Misha likes it.

_June 20_

“Maddie Beaver?” Misha asks as they dig through what feels like a never ending amount of paperwork for both their lists. The year is winding down to Christmas, and as crazy as it sounds negotiations for the naughty and nice kids starts in June. That way they know who to keep an eye on in the hopes they might have a chance to turn it all around before the night before Christmas. 

“Naughty.” Richard says definitively. 

“Come on,” Misha almost whines. “She’s not that bad!” 

“She hacked her father’s twitter account…multiple times,” Richard points out before taking a sip of the flavored hot coco Misha brought him when he came in. Only just now noticing that it must have come from his favorite place from all the way across town. 

“Okay, so that’s a point,” Misha agrees with a nod. Richard grins, her behavior is hard to argue with, but Misha’s a bit of bleeding heart. 

“Where did you get this?” Richard asks as he holds up the coco. 

“None of your business.” Misha won’t even look at him. 

“You would have had to get up an hour early this morning to get to the shop that makes this and back in time to meet me here,” Richard comments before taking another gulp of his favorite drink. He’s not even sure how Misha knew this was the kind he likes. They’ve never gone there together. 

“It’s coco, Richard,” Misha snorts even though his ears are getting pink. “Not a wedding proposal or anything. Just drink it and shut up.” 

Richard lets it hang in the air a moment between them, just long enough for Misha to look up at him as if he’s wondering why Richard isn’t speaking. Then he leans across the table, around the fruitcake and past the documents and presses his lips against Misha’s forehead in a tender, affectionate, kiss. 

Misha’s clearly utterly flustered. He blinks, shaking his head a little like he’s frankly not sure what’s going on. Richard thinks he looks cuter than a baby reindeer. “So tell me more about the Beaver girl, since you’re so sold on her need to be on the nice list this year.”

Misha launches into a well thought out and detailed argument that sort of boils down to “But I like her!” 

Richard’s feeling generous today, maybe it’s the belly of warm coco, maybe it’s the way Misha keeps looking at him from beneath his lashes, “Okay, fine. But it’s only provisional. She has to be good or she back to begin your problem.” 

For a second, he thinks Misha might hug him…but the other elf just grips the table instead. 

*****

It’s so late in the evening that it might as well be called morning. They’ve been working through names and actions, gifts and consequences since this morning and Richard’s head is so scrambled he feels like Dancer trying out new straps on his flying gear. 

A little sick to his stomach. 

At some point they decided to pack it up and head home, though home seemed to be Richard’s house for the night with all their work dragged there with them. They eat left over stew that Richard is mostly sure is still good though from the way Misha is inhaling it he’s not sure it would have mattered too much. After that it was back to work, bent over files and the computers until he finally just tosses the stuff off to the side and flops back against his sofa with a groan as he rubs his hands over his face. 

Maybe he’s getting too old for this. 

“Calling it a night?” Misha asks as he puts his own paperwork to the side. 

“Calling it a morning,” Richard snorts. It’s more frustration layering his voice than humor. 

“You look like you need a snuggle,” Misha says teasingly. But as he talks he’s easing his way onto the couch beside Richard’s body, turns and leans back until he’s sliding his head into Richard’s lap and draping his legs off the end of the sofa. 

“Are you forcing snuggles upon me?” Richard asks with a grin, his heart racing as his hands slip over the top of Misha’s forehead to smooth back his hair. The other elf feels warm next to his body. The weight of Misha’s form settling against this feels like a much needed anchor that Richard’s been living far too long without. This is the connection he’s been missing without ever even knowing it. But as Misha leans into him further, nuzzles at his stomach through his shirt, and exhales like he’s been holding his breath for a very long time, Richard finds himself mirroring the motion. 

Exhaling feels really, really good. 

“I like it here,” Misha murmurs into the dim light of the living room. “With you.” 

Richard’s tongue feels like it’s swelling six times its normal size. It makes forming a response almost impossible. 

Almost. 

“I like you here, too,” Richard almost whispers, but as he watches the smile slip across his face Richard knows he was heard. “Stay.” 

It’s just a single small word, but it carries so much meaning. It changes the whole picture of the rest of their lives if Misha understand exactly what Richard is asking, how badly he wants this. 

This game they’re playing…he’s tired of it. He’s enjoyed the dancing, the arguing, the teasing, the sex. It’s all been more fun than a box of home made cookies, but Richard wants more than just this. 

He wants Misha, wants to keep him forever. 

“I didn’t bring my tooth brush,” Misha says conversationally, like they’re discussing where to go for dinner. 

“I have a spare,” Richard counters with a quirk of his eyebrow and a grin. 

“Touché.” Misha chuckles before reaching up one long, thin arm and tangling his fingers in Richard’s hair, drags him down to be kissed as though Misha is as desperate to melt into him as he is to do the same to Misha. 

It’s not like any of their other kisses, no background irritation, no hurt feelings, just the sweet gentle pressure of Misha’s lips against his own, the warmth of their bodies close to together, and the way Richard feels. 

Love…Richard had almost forgotten he was capable of feeling something so wonderful. 

Misha makes a noise against his mouth. It’s a small sound, almost a mewl as their lips slip apart and their breath mingles together. Richard’s hands have ghosted lower and lower on Misha’s body, starting on his neck and slipping across his chest through his shirt until his hand is now burrowed up underneath Misha’s shirt and rubbing circles in a slow pattern over and over. Misha’s hips move restlessly, his hands cling to Richard’s hair, his shirt. They share a look, full of promises that neither of them feels capable of voicing. 

He’s not really sure how he ends up walking to his bedroom with Misha clinging to him like monkey. To be sure it’s not a graceful process, instead including lots of bumped into walls and walked into doorways while they both laugh and blush and stop to lean against anything they think _might_ hold their weight long enough to make out. 

But they make it to the bed, and that’s pretty much all the matters. Once they’re there and settled Richard rolls on top of Misha and nearly smothers him with kisses, lost in the joy of being together and for the first time feeling like he understand where they stand, and what each of them wants. 

“Stay.” Richard says again more firmly. It’s less of a question this time and more of a confirmation of this change they’re experiencing together. 

“Yes,” Misha whispers breathlessly, smiling up at him before dragging him back down to kiss some more. 

It’s how they pass the time until the alarm goes off in the morning, curled up in each other’s arms while they take the time to explore all the little details of their bodies they’ve missed before. Richard finally gets the chance to kiss the moles on Misha’s back and run his tongue along the lines of his muscles. Misha spends what feels like an hour searching out every sensitive or ticklish spot that Richard has. 

They eventually run out of time, have to get up and drag all of their stuff back to work with them on no sleep feeling exhausted physically, but emotionally rejuvenated. 

It’s a new beginning for both of them. 

_July 12th_

“So how are your teams developing?” Misha asks over dinner after work. 

“Fairly well,” Richard shrugs, taking a bite of his pasta and swallowing before he continues, “I have a couple of rookies how are having a hard time with the simulations. One got distracted by cookies left out of Santa and ate one then found out it had peanuts in it and swelled up like the big guy due to being allergic.” Misha laughs so hard his eye sparkle. “Another guy sparkled himself trying to deal with the family cat. But it’s just typical stuff, nothing too big. How about your guys?” 

“Three strained wrists during simulations and one elf set himself and his partner on fire,” Misha answers shaking his head. 

“They’re okay?” Richard questions because even for elves, fire is kind of a big deal. 

“They stopped, dropped, and rolled right into the simulated living room curtains and set the whole fake house on fire,” Misha snorts and Richard can’t help but giggle a little bit. 

“Well, I guess they’re going back to remedial learning,” Richard says after finally managing to pull himself together. 

“They’re going back to the toy factory.” Misha answers with finality. “Where they belong!” 

They share another bout of laughter before sobering enough to stop snickering every time they catch each other’s eye. 

“The J’s are doing well,” Richard offers with smile that give away his developing feelings on the whole matter. This new combined partnership is going so well there’s a chance it’s going to change how the elves run Christmas all together. It’s the first major difference in their routine in over four hundred years and though Richard is well aware many of his counterparts are nervous, he’s starting to feel like a little kid on Christmas morning. 

He just _knows_ this is a good thing. 

“Yes, they are,” Misha grins. “Last I heard through the rumor mill they were trying to decide which last name to keep.”

Richard thinks about it for a minute before making a face of disgust. “I think I would make up a new one. Neither of them had any luck in the last name department.” 

“Ackles isn’t so terrible,” Misha says after some thought. “At least you can pronounce it.”

“Barely,” Richard snorts. “He has to correct everyone, they make the A too long. But I guess your right, Jared’s last name isn’t even pronounceable in elvish.” 

“You think his mother trimmed the tree with a human?” Misha asks suddenly. “I’m just saying, Jared is _tall_!!” 

Richard tosses a roll at his partners head and Misha flashes him a smile that makes Richard think of the frost thawing in spring time. 

“I love you.” 

Yeah, that just sort of slipped out of his mouth before Richard really thought it over. 

Misha looks like he’s waiting for the punch line, his face drawn tight and forehead creased with worry. It’s not a face Richard generally associates with his partner, friend, lover being pleased. So the presence of it makes his heart start slamming around in his chest like a base drum. This is bad, so very very bad. This is like the sleigh crash of sixty eight kind of bad, worse even maybe. Richard thinks for a moment of just dropping the glass he’s holding and fleeing for his life. After all, now that he’s blurted that out he has not a single shred of self respect left in his body. 

Misha gazes at him, Richard frozen in his sights like a Caribou standing on the tracks in front of the Polar Express. Everything seems to slow down to crawl, Richard’s dimly aware of the hustle and bustle of other elves around them as people make their way through the streets and in and out of the restaurant they’re dining at. It’s like having an out of body experience for him and he watches Misha take a breath with rapt fascination, waiting for the words that will crush his fantasy of this being something wonderful, of it being something real. 

“We’ll use my last name when it’s us,” Misha announces firmly. “You last name is kind of weird, too.” 

Richard swears he hears the gears grind together as the world starts moving again. 

“Whatever,” Richard teases, ignoring the way his hands are shaking and the jingly bells in his stomach. “Collins isn’t even your real last name.” 

Misha blinks. 

“How did you know that?” He demands. 

But Richard laughs, a bright, rich sound filling up the room around them. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

_August 22nd_

It’s a birthday gift, and a spectacular one at that. Misha paid for him to have an hour long massage at Spa Nave Dad. Richard never pampers himself; in fact, most elves are bad at it in general. Type A personalities, every single one of them. It’s their dedication to doing this one huge thing for all the children of the world that keeps them going, gives them magic. But it’s also why they never really do much of anything for themselves. An elf take a vacation? Never going to happen. They only retire when they get bored doing what they’re doing. Besides, an elf’s idea of retirement is really just going to work somewhere else more relaxing than their current job. 

So yeah, a spa day is a little slice of fruitcake heaven for Richard. He’ll take it and be thankful for it. 

“So,” Renaldo says as he presses on a knot in Richard’s back, “you and Misha are becoming quite close.” 

Richard blushes, he can’t help it, their community is so small it’s sometimes like living in one of those television shows the humans call a soap opera. “We’re taking it slow.” 

Renaldo makes a humming noise, Richard tries to ignore how it sounds a bit like disapproval, but in the end he just can’t let it go and finally says, “What?” 

Renaldo sighs; they’ve known each other for a long time and something in Richard’s heart clenches in reaction to the sound. “You’re certain he is the one for you?”

“What are you saying, Renaldo?” Richard snaps. 

“Misha can be…easily distracted,” Renaldo answers, wringing his hands in front of him as Richard turns to glare. “I’m not trying to say this is the case between you,” he rushes to add at Richard’s dark look. “But be careful my friend. I do not wish to see you hurt any further.” 

The rest of his massage is less than relaxing. Richard ends up leaving the spa more wracked with tension than he was when he went in. He heads back to the office, coiled in on himself with a heavy feeling of dread he usually doesn’t experience until the concept of Figgie Pudding comes up. 

Richard’s rounding the corner, headed to Misha’s office when he hears it. 

“How about a late dinner?” 

Richard freezes just outside the door. He knows that voice, has heard it before, but not for a very long time, not since that time in the elevator. Sebastian. 

“I’m unavailable,” Misha answers. There’s no hesitation. 

“Maybe tomorrow then.” It’s not a question. 

“I’m fairly certain I’m booked up from now until the end of time,” Misha claims. “Assuming things go how I hope they do.” 

“I’m not asking for much attention, you know,” Sebastian murmurs. “I’ll take whatever time you have to spare. It’s always worked out for us before.” 

“Before was different.” Misha immediately answers, Richard can hear shuffling in the room and leans further around the edge of the doorway so he can see inside. Misha’s leaning against his desk, Sebastian standing next to him. Too close for Richard to really like it, but not enough to be obvious or threatening. “I’m different now.” 

“You love him?” Sebastian questions with his head cocking to the side as he considers Misha for a long moment. Richard watches as Misha’s cheeks color and he swallows, chewing his lip before answering. 

“Yes, I do.” 

The air around them is charged and heavy for a second, Richard barely managing to hold back his girlish squeal of delight. Then Sebastian turns, heading his way, toward the door as he says over his shoulder, “My loss then. No more midnight rendezvous for us. But if things should change…I assume you’ll let me know.” 

“Get out,” Misha murmurs, but Richard hears the thread of affection in his voice. 

Sebastian rounds the doorway out of Misha’s office, grabbing Richard by the arm and dragging him back around the corner before Misha can see him standing there. 

“Get your hands off me!” Richard complains. 

Sebastian lets him go, but stays crowded into his space. “Shall I assume the feelings are mutual?” 

“That is none of your business,” Richard snaps. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Sebastian nods. “You do understand that if you were to hurt him I would be there to offer a particular kind of comfort, don’t you? Misha is hard to resist.” 

“You come near him thinking those thoughts and I will feed you to the Bumble,” Richard all but snarls up in his face. 

“The Bumble is reformed,” Sebastian snorts. 

“The Bumble owes me,” Richard counters with a wicked grin. 

Sebastian swallows as he steps backwards slowly, watching Richard suspiciously all the while before turning on his heel and stalking up the hallway. 

He takes a moment to gloat to himself, feeling successful and powerful, until he rounds the corner and finds Misha leaning against the wall just on the other side out of sight. 

“The Bumble, huh?” Misha questions with a grin. 

Richard just shrugs as Misha drags him closer and kisses him. 

_September 10th_

“I think you should move into my place,” Misha announces as he flops down on the couch next to Richard after a long day at work. 

“Excuse me?” Richard sputters. Of all the topics he thought might come up tonight, this was _not_ one of them. 

“I’m serious,” Misha answers as he turns toward him. “I know your place is a little bigger, but my place is closer to work and it has a garage for your snow mobile.”

“You have a garage?” Richard asks. “Why didn’t I know that?”

“I never mentioned it,” Misha shrugs. “I don’t own a snow mobile.” 

“But I’ve been parking mine outside in the snow for almost half a year when I could have been parking it in your garage!” Richard blurts. 

“Garage access is strictly for people who live here,” Misha says as if that explains everything, and maybe for Misha it does. He’s just weird enough to take that line in his housing contract literally while he still debates the fact that their work dress code calls for tights, shirts, and hats. So Misha swears that means Santa doesn’t need him to wear underwear. 

Richard’s learning quickly sometimes there is just no way to win an argument with Misha. 

“So I could use it if I lived here?” Richard asks. 

“Of course,” Misha smiles. “If you live here then it’s all yours.” 

“I’ll have to sell my place,” Richard says mostly to himself. “That could take a while.” 

“I have a buyer lined up.” Misha says with a grin. 

“Who?” Richard’s not sure he really wants to know. 

“Sebastian!” Misha announces like it’s the best news ever. 

“You have got to be kidding me!” Richard blurts. No way is this possible. 

“Of course I am,” Misha answers seriously. “He can’t keep living here once you move in, that would be too weird. People would talk.” 

“Wait!” Richard shouts. “What?! Sebastian lives _where_?”

“Here.” Misha answers like he’s talking to someone particularly slow. “He stays in the guest bedroom. Or rather, I keep his belongings in there. Mostly these days he’s sleeping other places.” 

“How long?” Richard asks. 

“Has he lived here?” Misha waits for Richard to nod before cocking his head to the side and thinking. “Well, he lost his previous housing after a nasty break up earlier this year. It turns out his lover wasn’t as open to the open relationship as she had said she was when he moved in. When he took in interest in someone else then she threw him out and he moved in here.” 

“And the other person was?” Richard’s sure he already knows the answer. 

“Me.” Misha answers. “But it doesn’t matter.” He adds as Richard starts clenching his hands on his pants. “The only person who interests me is you. Besides, he’s moved on now, he just feels like he needs to live alone for a while so we discussed it and decided he prefers your apartment to mine so you can move here and he will buy your place.” 

“You discussed me moving in with you with you ex who live here already…” Richard murmurs. Then something occurs to him. “Wait! How does Sebastian know what my apartment looks like?” 

“Because I showed it to him,” Misha looks a little baffled by Richard not following along, like this all makes perfect sense. “How could he be expected to buy your apartment without looking at it first?”

“You took Sebastian to my apartment.”

“I believe that is what I just said.” Misha frowns at him. 

“You are insane; you know that, don’t you?” Richard questions, his head is suddenly hurting. 

“You love me,” Misha whispers back before settling against Richard’s body in the space that Richard is starting to think was maybe made for just him. 

And he’s right; Richard loves him more than Christmas cookies and warm milk. 

He didn’t even know Misha had a guestroom. 

_October 30th_

“We need a new mattress,” Misha complains as he shifts on the lumpy one in their apartment. 

“We could have used mine but you sold it to Sebastian,” Richard reminds him with a grin. 

“He wanted the place furnished,” Misha shrugs. “He paid extra.” 

“I know,” Richard laughs. “I just sort of feel like we got divorced and he got the house.” 

“And what did you get?” Misha chuckles as he asks. 

“You,” Richard murmurs before leaning over to kiss his lover. After their lips part long moments later Richard adds, “I’m certain I got the better part of the deal.” 

Misha grins up at him before reaching out and tugging on the back of Richard’s hair to bring him down for more kisses. They end up sprawled in their bed together, arms around each other, tongues tangling and untangling, hips pressed together tightly as they rock slowly into each other. 

It’s nice to not be rushed, to just have all the time in the world to explore each other and that’s exactly what Richard sets about to do starting with the tips of Misha’s elegant ears. He nuzzles and licks at them while Misha moans softly and squirms in his arms, only to work down to the other elf’s neck and worry the skin there between his teeth gently. His actions earn him a gasp and Misha hands in his hair tugging and pressing as if he can’t decide if he wants Richard closer or farther away. 

They trade lazy kisses as Richard works both their shirt buttons loose and slips them free of the entangling material. Bare chested Misha is a sight, lean lines of muscle stretched tight under skin too soft to feel real as Richard rubs his face against it before inhaling his lover’s scent. Then he trails kisses off to one side and brushes his tongue back and forth over Misha’s nipple, just long enough to make his lover twist and hiss at the edge of being too sensitive. Then kisses trailed next to nibbles down his ribs and across his stomach, tights tugged down to reveal a nicely curved erection already leaking before Richard even has a chance to get it onto his tongue, into his mouth. But when he does Misha seems to come apart, high pitched whines combining with growling lower tones as Misha grabs at his hair and struggling to hold his hips still. 

Richard loves this, could spend hours this way ignoring the ache in his jaw in favor of Misha’s pleasure. The other elf’s wanton sexuality is infectious and Richard’s come in his leggings a few times just from the noises Misha makes during a blow job. But tonight he’s looking for more. Misha’s so distracted he doesn’t even notice Richard opening the bottle of lube they keep beside the bed. Thought really, how Misha can miss the smell of the cinnamon pine lube is beyond him. Richard distractedly wonders if maybe next time they can try candy cane or just _really_ be wild and get the unscented kind. 

It’s cold in his hand, coating his fingers, colder feeling still as he pushes the first of his fingers inside himself. Richard groans around the flesh in his mouth making Misha lose a little bit more of his control and buck up off the sheets. He’s running out of time, too much more of this and they’re both going to be decking the halls too early. He pushes his leggings further down his legs and finally manages to kick them completely off before sliding Misha’s dick free of his mouth and straddling the other elf’s body before Misha gathers enough brain cells to really complain. 

Then it’s slick, hot, heat filling him up inside as he slides down until his hips hit Misha’s more narrow ones. Their eyes meet for an intense moment before Richard slides back up and slips back down along Misha’s length. Misha’s eyes roll up in his head and he moans out, “Oh…hark the herald angel…” 

Richard wants to laugh, but it feels too damned good. “Oh, tinsel…” he murmurs before finding a rhythm and latching onto it because it feels so good. They don’t last long, too turned on, too into each other. Richard feels it crawling up his spine only seconds before he’s doubling over and shouting his competition into the side of Misha’s neck, the hot spray of his come covering both their stomachs and chests where they are pressed together. Misha whines, grabs his hips so tight Richard’s certain there will be marks tomorrow and fill him up inside. They stay that way, panting together for a long time before Misha turns his head and whispers, “I love you more than Christmas.” 

And that’s about as serious as elves get. 

_November 9th_

In reality, there aren’t too many differences between elves and the humans they service. In fact, if you really sit down and examine their cultures there are some remarkable similarities, though technological changes in the way elves work are often driven by the human characteristic of a need to seek more knowledge. 

After all, before computers elves had been making Christmas happen for a good long time. Having a database just made it a lot easier to service the quickly growing human population. 

But there is one way in which elves differ significantly from their human counterparts. They don’t really have a religion per say, instead they have…a tree. 

A giant, ancient tree out in the middle of nowhere that no single elf can focus on enough to give directions toward if asked, but when they close their eyes and clear their minds they just sort of find their way there. 

Richard hesitates to call it a holy place, but perhaps that’s his own personal bias speaking. Still, it’s where the elves go to experience celebrations like births…or marriages. 

Richard’s fairly certain at this point in his life that he won’t ever be out here for a birthing ceremony of his own. But still, this is the second time he’s come out here to be wed, and that in itself is rare thing. 

Which would explain how many of their friends and co-workers are crowded around the base of the giant old tree waiting for Richard and Misha to get on with it. 

He looks up, into her branches as far as he can before the darkness of the night around them turns it all into blackness. The tree symbolizes much to them, they first learn about the importance of how systems work together from her roots, and the need for steadfastness by how her trunk stays tall even in the worst of storms. They are educated about the cycle of life by the loss of her needles, for even an evergreen isn’t truly without death and neither are elves though their life spans are long. They experience growth and change through witnessing how her seedlings grow in the surrounding areas. So it’s to her they return to when they have something meaningful to announce. 

Well, her and the elfernet. After all, google is huge even up here. 

“Everyone is looking at us,” Misha comments quietly off to Richard’s left. 

“Of course they are,” Richard whispers back. “We’re getting married.” 

“I had thought it might be just the two of us,” Misha murmurs. 

Richard bursts into giggles. The crowd behind them shifts in confusion. “Then you shouldn’t have told Tiny.” 

“Good point,” Misha says solemnly. “On with it then?” 

“After you,” Richard says with a flourish. He feels Misha purposefully bump him in reaction to his teasing. It makes Richard smile, Misha is nervous, just like he is, and for once he thinks it’s like they’re on even ground. 

He sort of wants to savor the feeling.

Misha steps up to the base of her trunk and starts to climb. Richard takes a deep breath and climbs up after him. Unlike what Richard has watched on youtube of human weddings, there’s no spoken part in elvish tradition. They’ll scale the tree as far as they feel comfortable and decorate her with an ornament made together to hang for the rest of the great tree’s life. 

Misha seems determined to get to the top in record time, he disappears into the upward curving branches and out of Richard’s sight. Richard takes his time on the climb, stopping to examine some of the other ornamentation elves before them have left on their own journeys. Maybe he’s just a sentimental old sap, but he feels a connection with these others of times gone by. He remembers doing this the first time and the terror he felt about possibly falling. It’s funny that all these years later all Richard can think about it going up, up, up to where Misha must now be waiting for him. Something about his new life’s partner changing his thinking, his outlook. 

When he finds him, Misha is sitting beside an ornament made of brass and gold, the intricate knot work so delicate that a master craftsman must have created it. “It’s lovely.”   
He murmurs as he reaches out to touch it gently sending the ornament spinning in a circle that highlights it’s pattern and it’s maker’s expertise. 

“It’s my parents,” Misha says with pride. “I was wondering if you would mind if we hung ours here.” 

And oh…Richard has to reach other to tug Misha close and hold him tightly. Misha’s parents, both coal elves, were killed fifty years ago in a mine collapse. Richard remembers Misha sobbing into his chest when he told the story. How his father could have escaped, but instead refused to leave Misha’s mother behind and died while trying to free her from the rubble. 

“It’s the only way I know how to love,” Misha whispers into Richard’s shoulder. “It’s why I never did it before you. I only know how to give my everything to just one person, Richard. I couldn’t ever risk loving someone who couldn’t do the same in return. There’s just you for me, there will only ever be just you.” 

Richard nods, tugging from his pack the ornament they made together, brushed iron and glass interlocked so tightly nothing can come between it. Together they hang it beside Misha’s parent’s ornament. The two brush together making a noise that Richard swears sounds like bells in the cold winter night. Misha smiles, wiping a few tears off his cheeks before following Richard back down the great tree to where their friends are waiting below. 

_December 24th_

“What’s the schedule on the turn outs?” Gabriel questions into his headset. “We have teams red. Prep and Landing squads have been given their assignments and are currently await transports. Do we have a go, Magee?” 

“Hold your horses, Frosty!” Magee shouts back at him from the control room. “We’re still getting our gear on up here, you’re ahead of schedule.” 

“He’s not the only one,” Misha’s voice rings into his headset and Richard looks out the door of his office to where he can see his husband leaning against his own desk sucking down a cup of hot chocolate. “Coal Elves are also go and waiting transport to their destinations. You’re slow, Magee.” 

“Shove it, Snowman,” Magee snaps into the headset and Richard watches with a grin as Misha throws his head back and laughs. 

“Snowman?” He questions. 

“What’s wrong with it?” Misha asks as he waves at him from across the hall. “Frosty?” 

And ok, so even a room away Misha can still make Richard blush. 

Not that he’s going to admit that to anyone. 

Long moments pass as they gaze at each other until Magee’s voice breaks into the interlude exclaiming, “Yuck! I can feel you two looking at each other lovingly from here. Stop it, we’re working tonight.” 

Misha gives Richard two thumbs up and Richard rolls his eyes. Incorrigible. 

“Waiting on you, Boss lady,” Misha reminds her. 

“Prep and Landing are a go,” Magee responds and Richard immediately switches the dial on his headset to speak to his teams. 

“We have green light people, this is not a simulation. Remember tonight these are real homes you’re going into, with real children inside. Be on high alert and watch each other’s backs. Any concerns you need to report it to the eye in the sky immediately. We will be watching you all from a distance and you have our full support. Now let’s go spread some Christmas cheer. Ho, ho, GO!” 

Team after team rush into the waiting transport pods strapped to stomping and excited reindeer. Sure, Santa’s team are the most famous, but there’s a whole herd of reindeer working behind the scenes, just like elves, determined to make this one night of magic a year happen flawlessly every time. Richard watches with excitement as his squads take flight and head to the individual homes of little children prepping each house for Santa’s arrival and making sure everything runs smoothly. 

Once the last of the Prep and Landing crews are gone Magee announces, “Coal Elves are a go!” 

He watches as Misha leaps to his feet shouting excitedly into his headset. Even from their offices Richard can hear the cheers of the boisterous coal elves as they hurry to get on their transports and get to their destinations. Though their job is not nearly as glamorous or as appreciated Richard smiles to himself because he knows what pride Misha and his people take in their work. Sure, they look after the so called “bad kids” but only in the hopes of reforming them. 

Richard’s learned a lot about reform by being with Misha. He leans back and closes his eyes. Relaxing for just a few moments while his partner works his teams through the evacuation and onward toward their assignments. Once Misha is done they’re going to need to set Jared and Jensen on their way as well. 

“Richard,” Magee’s voice rings through the headset one more time. “We’re ready for the J’s to go.” 

“Misha and I are on our way to the launch pad,” Richard replies. Misha meets him in the hallway, shoulder to shoulder as they head toward the elfevator to take them to where their final team is waiting. 

Richard laughs a little at the visual they create. Jensen in his clean lines and well organized suit compared to Jared’s much larger frame flecked with coal dust. Still though they look well rested and confident about what they are about to do and even Thrasher, their private transport can’t stop himself from stomping his hooves in excitement. 

“Four houses in one night?” Magee says as she comes toward them from the other side of the room. “Our best team in history was only able to pull off two.” 

“We’re ready,” Jensen assures her. “We can do this.” 

“And it’s six houses,” Jared corrects with grin. “Four coal and two for the big guy.” 

“Do we have a back up team in place?” Magee questions Richard, her disrespect is blatant but it’s hard for Richard to get upset when Jared is making reindeer horns over her head behind her back as she looks at him. 

“Yes,” Richard agrees. “We do, but it’s a non-issue.” 

“Who are they?” Magee barks out. “Are they trained, are they competent? How do they communicate?” 

“We communicate _very_ well, Thank you,” Misha grins as he throws his arm around Richard’s shoulders. “And As far as competent goes I’ve never had any complaints.” 

“We’re a little loose on the training thing though,” Richard adds with a smirk. “You know, being newbies and all.” 

He watches as all the color drains out of Magee’s face. She turns to Jared and Jensen with a stern look and says quietly, “You better be able to pull this off.” 

Then she’s stalking her way across the landing area with Tiny tripping over himself to keep up behind her. 

“I don’t think she likes us much,” Misha comments with falsely put on sad face. 

“She loves us,” Richard teases. “She just doesn’t want us to know that!” 

They watch the two J’s load up and Thrasher disappear into the night with a violent clanging of his hooves. After that it’s just a matter of clearing the launch area so the big guy can go. Richard and Misha rush out of the way of the reindeer thundering in to get into position for their flights. But once they’re in the elfevator it’s long minutes spent making out while they are only distantly aware of Magee instituting the countdown for the biggest launch of the year. Then the Partridge is in the Pear Tree, for those who don’t speak elf well, that means Santa is in the sleigh. And with “Dash away all,” from the tower and a “Ho, Ho, Go!” from the man himself they’re off and Christmas is pretty much out of their hands. 

Now it’s just the waiting…not that Richard can’t think of ways to fill up the time. 

_December 25th_

“Well?” Misha questions as he slumps down in Richard’s office hours later. The sun high in sky as Christmas eve has long since given way to Christmas day. Richard closes his eyes for a moment and imagines the happiness of the children as they open their toys and when he opens his eyes again he finds Misha staring at him fondly. 

“Everyone is back accept for Jared and Jensen,” Richard reports. “But they still have a another half hour before they are counted as past the deadline. If there was a problem they would have called us in to help them long before now.” 

“Magee is loosing her bells right now isn’t she?” Misha asks with a grin. 

“Magee started hitting the eggnog hard about an hour ago,” Richard chuckles. “She’s not happy, but Tiny has he occupied.”

“What’s the deal with those two anyway?” Misha asks. 

Richard opens his mouth to answer, but gets distracted by his ear piece flaring to life with static. “Control, this is Thrasher. I’m requesting permission to land.” 

“Show time!” Misha announces as he gets to his feet and follows Richard back down to the launch pad. “Do you think they did it?” 

“Of course they did,” Richard chuckles. “I told Thrasher not to bring them back until they were done, so either they finished or they died trying.” 

“You are a devious little thing,” Misha accuses while pinching Richard’s behind. 

“Look who’s talking,” Richard murmurs. 

“Your radios are on,” Magee interrupts them. “I’m stopping you now before we have to listen to the sound of you guys having sex… _again!_ ”

Richard’s eyes bug out and Misha laughs shamelessly. It’s a little too shameless really, and Richard shoots him a glare that makes his husband blush and look away. “You left it broadcasting on purpose, didn’t you?” 

“You’ll never be bored,” Misha replies warmly before skipping away from Richard’s grasps as he thinks for just a second about throttling his partner in front of Santa and everyone. 

But then Thrasher is skidding to a halt at the end of the landing bay ramp and stomping his hooves in what Richard clearly understands as pride. The first coal and prep and landing elf team walks down the ramp at the back of their pod carrying something that looks suspiciously like…”Pizza?” 

“We got done early,” Jared mumbles around a mouthful of food. 

“He was hungry,” Jensen adds helpfully, like the stain of pizza sauce isn’t on the front of his uniform too. 

“Next year,” Thrasher adds as his dressing team struggle to unbuckle his harness. “We need to try for ten houses. Six was easy.” 

Richard and Misha exchange a look. They both know with the success of this team next year will bring a lot of changes to how they all do their jobs. 

But Richard’s starting to believe that change isn’t such a bad thing. 

*****

“Ten teams next year?” Misha asks as he and Richard drive home. 

“Maybe more,” Richard agrees. “If we can convince Jensen and Jared to do some of the training with us.”

“They’re a little distracted by each other right now,” Misha laughs and Richard thinks of the sweetly triumphant kiss they all witnessed the two share at the end of their debriefing. 

“I would never have guessed that,” Richard teases as he reaches over to tangle their fingers together while he pulls off the street and into their garage. “I’m pretty distracted by you,” he admits with a smile. 

He watches Misha’s tired face light up with a smile and everything they’ve gone through to get to this moment seems suddenly worth it. “I get to keep you,” he murmurs. 

“I was just thinking the same thing about you,” Misha laughs. “Do you want to go party with the rest of the crew?”

“No thank you,” Richard chuckles as he gets out of the snow mobile and follows Misha into their apartment. “Last year I made the mistake of doing that. I ended up getting totally drunk and having this crazy one night stand with an elf that ended up being my co-worker. It was horribly embarrassing.”

“You know,” Misha grins as he kicks off his shoes and heads for their bedroom. “I think I might have met my husband that way.” 

“We must be made for each other then,” Richard nods seriously before tugging Misha down into their bed. With the shades drawn and the curtains down it looks like night time inside their room even though it’s closer to lunch. They’ve been up for almost two straight days and Richard’s body is already shutting down, getting ready to rest. There’s almost no energy left in him. 

“I knew who you were,” Misha admits so quietly Richard almost misses it. 

“What?” Richard questions, but he doesn’t move. Is almost afraid to move. 

“When I was growing up I had a poster of you on my wall,” Misha spills out, his whole face bright red. “You were my first fantasy when I got old enough to understand I didn’t like girls.” 

“Oh holly berries,” Richard groans as he rolls over and hides his face in the sheets. “You have to be joking, I’m not that old.” 

“Yes, you are,” Misha chuckles. “And I’m _that_ pathetic. I hit on you because you were _the guy_ for me. Always have been and then you came home with me and the next morning, oh Richard. I was so horrified. I knew we were going to be working together and I didn’t know what to do. So I ran and when you got there you looked so disgusted…I just couldn’t tell you I knew you. I’m sorry.” 

“I’m sorry I acted like a reindeer’s rear-end,” Richard offers as he hugs Misha tighter. 

“You still are, you know,” Misha mumbles out sleepily a few moments later. 

“What?” Richard snorts. “A reindeer’s rear-end?” 

“No!” Misha slaps at him weakly before curling over on his side and tucking himself against Richard’s body in the position he likes to sleep in. “You’re still _the guy_ for me.”

Richard soaks up the love he feels greedily before whispering back, “You’re it for me too.” 

“More than Christmas,” Misha breathes out against his shoulder. 

“More than Christmas,” Richard agrees as sleep overtakes them both.


End file.
